Elsie's children eBook

This was the arrangement made and preparations to
carry it out were immediately set on foot. In
a few days the brother and sister bade good-bye to
their kind entertainers, their mother, now nearly recovered,
joined them in Philadelphia, and the three together
turned their faces westward.

In bidding adieu to Elsie, Sally whispered with tears
of joy the good news that Tom was trusting in a strength
mightier than his own, and so, as years rolled on,
these friends were not surprised to hear of his steadfast
adherence to the practice of total abstinence from
all intoxicating drinks, and his growing prosperity.

CHAPTER TWELFTH.

“You
may as well

Forbid the seas to obey the moon,
As, or by oath, remove, or counsel, shake
The fabric of her folly.”

—­Shakespeare.

Scarcely had the Gibsons departed when their places
were more than filled by the unexpected arrival of
a large party from Roselands, comprising old Mr. Dinsmore,
with his daughter Mrs. Conly and her entire family,
with the exception of Calhoun, who would follow shortly.

They were welcomed by their relatives with true southern
hospitality and assured that the two cottages could
readily be made to accommodate them all comfortably.

“What news of Molly?” was the first question
after the greetings had been exchanged.

Mrs. Conly shook her head and sighed, “Hasn’t
been able to set her foot on the floor for weeks,
and I don’t believe she ever will. That’s
Dr. Pancoast’s opinion, and he’s good
authority. ’Twas her condition that brought
us North. We’ve left her and her mother
at the Continental in Philadelphia.

“There’s to be a consultation to-morrow
of all the best surgeons in the city. Enna wanted
me to stay with her till that was over, but I couldn’t
think of it with all these children fretting and worrying
to get down here out of the heat. So I told her
I’d leave Cal to take care of her and Molly.

“Dick’s with them too. He’s
old enough to be useful now, and Molly clings to him
far more than to her mother.”

“Isn’t it dreadful,” said Virginia,
“to think that that fall down-stairs has made
her a cripple for life? though nobody thought she was
much hurt at first.”

“Poor child! how does she bear it?” asked
her uncle.

“She doesn’t know how to bear it at all,”
said Mrs. Conly; “she nearly cries her eyes
out.”

“No wonder,” remarked the grandfather;
“it’s a terrible prospect she has before
her, to say nothing of the present suffering.
And her mother has no patience with her; pities herself
instead of the child.”

“No,” said Mrs. Conly, “Enna was
never known to have much patience with anybody or
anything.”

“But Dick’s good to her,” remarked
Isadore.

“Yes,” said Arthur, “it’s
really beautiful to see his devotion to her and how
she clings to him. And it’s doing the lad
good;—­making a man of him.”